


Reflections in Shadow

by Josey (cestus), junko



Series: The Tea Conspiracy [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Backstory, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Conspiracy Theories, Gen, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22118257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestus/pseuds/Josey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: Fate weaves a convoluted web.  Long ago, the Ukitakes made a deal with a devil to save their son's life and thus saddled Jushiro with a stowaway god. More recently, Kyouraku Shunsui's beloved sister-in-law's execution has left him with his own demons to wrestle.And, somewhere, not far away, an unformed power awaits in the darkness.
Relationships: Kyouraku Shunsui/Ukitake Juushirou
Series: The Tea Conspiracy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592041
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

Jūshirō clung to the doorway out onto the funaya's porch, his heart in turmoil as he watched the man he loved more than life, drink himself blind for the third day in a row. Dawn was just breaking over the bay and yet the jug beside Shunsui was already half empty. 

A spot-billed pelican soared noiselessly across the pinking sky and, unbidden, the old mariner’s rhyme sprang to Jūshirō's mind: _‘red at night, sailors’ delight; red in the morning, sailors take warning.’_

Perhaps he was the sailor in this circumstance, and should be the one taking notice. The gods knew, Shunsui's moods could be fickle at the best of times, and this was far from the best.

The ocean was rough from spring storms, though the spray from the waves didn’t quite reach the second story of the boathouse. Shunsui sat leaning against the railing, with his bare feet hung over the edge, staring blankly out over the water. 

It didn't look as though he’d been to bed… or even to the baths. The wind plucked restlessly at outgrown curls, turning the wide sleeves of his well-worn kosode into billowing sails, and even from here, Jūshirō could smell the unwashed, alcohol-laden stink of him.

The holiday would be over soon. On the hills beyond the bay, the cherry trees already looked tired and worn, with only a few stubborn blossoms still clinging to their branches. In a few days, they'd be expected back in the Seireitei and Shunsui's captain wasn't going to tolerate a drunken officer.

It was time to confess what he knew. Jūshirō had already held on to this secret too long. 

Yet, the urge to keep silent forever was tempting. Unlike the last secret, this one could fade unknown into the darkness, and no one would be the wiser. 

Except, if he did, Jūshirō would never be able to look his lover in the eye again.

When Shunsui let out a huge, disgusting belch, Jūshirō gathered his wits, strode out onto the wide verandah and sat down near the edge. Spray blew back across the rocks, enough that he automatically kept a protective hand over his bowl as he took a careful sip of tea.

“Ah, ‘Shirō!” Shunsui slurred, making a failed effort to sit upright. Despite his intoxicated state, his voice still boomed out across the water, startling a group of noisy seagulls into flight. “You’re up early!”

“Before her execution, your brother’s lover had a baby,” Jūshirō said without preamble. “A girl, named Nanao.”

“What?” Shunsui’s meaty fist pounded the wooden deck between them. His breath was foul and he spat spittle on Jūshirō’s cheek with his angry shouts. “How do you know these things---? Where is she now!?”

Jūshirō let out a small sigh and put on a gentle smile as he turned. “Come, sober up. We’re going to the Maggot’s Nest.”

#

Jūshirō was trying to talk him out of wearing the kimono. But Shunsui wasn't having that. He needed to wear it. There was a point he wanted to make. To someone or other. “No,” he insisted, batting away Jūshirō’s anxious hands, “I’m wearing it or I'm not going.”

“It doesn’t even fit you.” Jūshirō clucked his tongue like an old woman. “It’s just hanging off those massive shoulders of yours. You look---”

Shunsui glared, daring him to say ‘ridiculous’ or some other insult.

Green eyes glinted for a second, before the corners crinkled and Jūshirō shook his head. “--as handsome as ever, I suppose.” With a soft smile, he brushed the hair from Shunsui’s face. “At least let me tie back your hair. How long since you’ve washed it? It’s gotten so long! Please let me. I’ll use her pins… _their_ pins.”

Helplessly, Shunsui surrendered to Jūshirō’s fussing, because otherwise he would have to surrender to tears and that he swore he would never give Central 46 the satisfaction of doing.

Finally he allowed himself to be led from the boathouse to the onsen, squinting in the bright spring sunshine and wishing for another jug of sake.

It was never clear to Shunsui exactly how much of this fishing village the Ukitake clan could claim, but everyone they passed nodded to Jūshirō or made a passing comment on the weather or asked after his health. No one lingered, however, though it was clear they would have liked to, if it weren’t for Shunsui’s glowering presence. Normally, for Jūshirō’s sake, Shunsui would at least attempt to lighten the mood, offer a smile or a quip to charm the ladies. 

Not today. These simple fisherfolk could go fuck themselves for all Shunsui cared, and the third time they were stopped by some crone who wanted to give Jūshirō a jar of shime saba, pickled mackerel, Shunsui had said so.

The woman stared at him in frozen shock for a second, then chuckled and wagged her finger at Jūshirō. "Ah, Ukitake-san, your friend's head must be paining him a lot to speak that way to an old lady. Here." She undid the ties on her straw travelling hat and reached up to place it on Shunsui's head. 

When going up on tiptoe didn't get her high enough, she poked it at his chest. Shunsui took it and put the hat on himself. It shaded his eyes perfectly and the incipient headache he hadn't even realised was developing, faded away to nothing.

"Thank you, obaa-san," he said, dipping her a genuinely grateful bow, while holding the hat on with one hand. 

Jūshirō shot him a look that suggested that wasn't going to be enough to get him off the hook and hurried them away.

The bath-house was only two streets over, tucked between an inn and what might be a rather pretty teahouse. Jūshirō steered him away from investigating further and urged Shunsui in through an unassuming wooden door. 

Inside, the floors were well-scrubbed stone and only plain wooden screens separated the washing area from two large pools filling the air with slightly salty scented steam. There was also no one to take payment, which meant this was either a private bath-house for the Ukitake clan, or there was an arrangement. Whichever was true, it also meant they were going to be alone for a while.

“I assume you have a plan,” Shunsui said as the door closed behind them and before the scolding could start. “To liberate the child.”

“Did you have to be quite so vulgar?” Jūshirō demanded, dragging a couple of baskets off the shelf. “Ishikawa-obaa-san is old enough to be your grandmother.”

“Then, I’m sure she’s already heard a few ‘fucks’ in her life, Jūshirō. And anyway, she can't have been that scandalized, she gave me her hat, didn't she?” Taking it off, Shunsui turned it several times so as to admire it properly before looking around for somewhere to put it down. 

"In there," Jūshirō said irritably, undoing the ties on his yukata with one hand while pointing at a basket that Shunsui would have sworn wasn't there a second before. 

That done, and because undressing seemed like the thing to do, Shunsui plucked at his own ties. To no avail. They remained tightly knotted. In fact, all his clothes seemed tangled together beyond hope, and it wasn't helping that he couldn’t remember exactly what he was wearing. When had he last taken them off?

With a frustrated growl, he began tugging at them in earnest, until Jūshirō came over and worked some kind of magic on them. As he did so, he said, “Of course I have a plan. We’re simply going to go to the Maggot’s Nest and pay for her freedom.”

Of course they were! Shunsui was more than drunk enough still to home in on the inherent humour of that proposition. “Ho-ho, a little child trafficking before breakfast! I knew there was a reason I fell for you.”

“Mmmm, be careful you don’t just fall over,” Jūshirō said, but there was a warmth in his voice. It reminded Shunsui of simpler times and he used the opportunity to slip his arms over Jūshirō’s shoulders. 

“Would that really work?” he mused, half-closing his eyes, and letting Jūshirō deftly divest him of his clothes. “Do men routinely buy children from prison?”

“Yes,” Jūshirō said, stepping away a little, as though to admire his handiwork. 

Shunsui was so shocked by Jūshirō’s answer that he forgot to sway his hips flirtatiously. “Yes? Just ‘yes’? Is there no depth to the depravity of this place? And how DO you know such things, Ukitake Jūshirō? What is it your family does, again? Piracy on the high seas?”

“Fish. We own seaside property and a fleet,” Jūshirō said with a slight blush, urging Shunsui over towards a stool. “Look, it’s not always so… depraved as you’re imagining. The young ones, the ones who aren’t convicted of any crime, sometimes get farmed out for labor. Our family has never done this--you don’t put unskilled people on a fishing boat--but the Kira own a farm, and when there aren’t enough hands…? Well, er---”

“It’s cheap labor. It’s slave labor,” Shunsui filled in, sitting down heavily. “I understand the concept. I’m sure my family does such things as well, I just don’t pay attention because I don’t have to. But, Jūshirō, we’re not asking to borrow this child. We’re going to take her… and, presumably, keep her?”

There was a sobering thought. What the hell? Was he about to become a father?

“I’ve already hired a wet nurse.” Handing Shunsui one washing bucket, Jūshirō turned away to go fill another. “I’m sure people are… erm, kept. We’ll probably just have to pay more. Much more.” He glanced at Shunsui over his shoulder. “You do have access again, right? Your family has released your stipend after the latest… incident?”

Shunsui waved off Jūshirō’s concerns. “They can play withholding games all they want. My brother was clan head. If I write a convincing enough report, I can have anything I want. Even, I suppose, a… baby?” 

The last bit came out uncertainly. What was he getting himself into? 

Grabbing the wash bucket, he up-ended it over his head and, conveniently hidden behind a curtain of sodden hair, pondered the question for a while. Only when Jūshirō returned with the second bucket, did he ask, “A wet nurse, Jūshirō? Are you... trying to make an honest man of me?”

“That’s not possible,” Jūshirō replied tartly. His hand, holding the soap, appeared in Shunsui's line of sight. “At any rate, trying to turn you into a full time father would not only be a waste of time, it would be a waste of a fine soldier. Particularly one so close to bankai. There are cousins upon cousins in my clan. I have feelers out. Someone will be happy to raise her.”

“Mmm.” Shunsui wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or disappointed by how organized and tidy this whole thing was. He decided not to think about it. Or about how Jūshirō had apparently arranged it all without mentioning a word of it to him. 

Much like he'd not said a word about nee-san, until it was far too late.

Shunsui had known though. Or the Divine sword had. And the despairing cry that Shunsui had spent so long trying to drown out, plucked at the edges of his mind. Only his determined attempt at self-medication had stopped it from rising to the surface and even now he was drunk enough that, a few heartbeats later, it was gone, swallowed by intoxicated bonhomie.

He pouted at the soap and tried to remember what to do with it. Well, he knew of one thing that was a lot more fun than washing. Sweeping his wet hair back from his face, he leered up at his lover. “Shiro-chan! We’re in a private baths! Aren’t we required by law to fuck?”

“Oh dear gods,” Jūshirō said with a cluck of his tongue. “You’re incorrigible.”

But he at least he was smiling.

#

Sex should have improved Shunsui’s mood, but it only served to sober him up.

And sober Shunsui was… not well.

Jūshirō knew it was too soon, because sex always had them laughing like school boys. He should have stopped things, but he wanted… too much. With Shunsui, Jūshirō always wanted things he’d never, ever ask of another soul.

He wanted selfish things. He wanted needy things. 

He wanted every thing.

And, Shunsui could always feel it in their touch, see it in his eyes… and, Jūshirō knew that because of what he saw there, the pain returned.

It was his fault after all.

Shunsui didn’t talk at all during their walk back to the boat house. He'd refused to shave and still insisted on hanging that dead woman’s garish kimono over his shoulders. It was a ghastly reminder of what had happened but, even so, Jūshirō had to admit that something about having the silk there made Shunsui stand taller and put a bit of his usual swagger back in his gait. Sliding both blades of Katen Kyōkatsu into his obi seemed to do the rest.

Jūshirō breathed the first deep breath he’d taken since the day he told Shunsui about his beloved… what was that woman to him? An aunt, yes, but only by marriage, and anyway surely that had been years and years ago. So, was this child even a Kyōraku? 

Not that it mattered.

When they reached the entrance to the boat house, Jūshirō went up several steps before he realised Shunsui had stopped at the bottom, head bowed beneath his new hat. One stubborn lock had escaped the ponytail, falling in front of his face and he gripped Katen Kyōkatsu’s hilt with whitening knuckles. 

"What's wrong-?" Jūshirō began.

Glancing up to reveal a murderous glint in his deep brown eyes, Shunsui replied, “If the child is well, I may yet forgive you.”

Jūshirō managed a weak smile. “No, you won’t.”

Shunsui’s eyes went wide and then he put his head back and laughed. The first real laugh that Jūshirō had heard from him in weeks. “You know me too well.”

“Which is why I kept her execution date from you,” Jūshirō said quietly, continuing up the steps. “You would have rushed to your own death and saved no one.”

“Better that I’d’ve--”

“No! No, it’s not! Not to me!” Jūshirō cut him off, snapping--something he never did, but his patience was at its end with all this talk of sacrifice for some woman, no more than a stranger, really, that the child in Shunsui idolized. This sudden, sharp, emotional outburst triggered a coughing fit, and Jūshirō doubled over with the pain of it. 

As he clutched his knees struggling to breath, Jūshirō chided himself. This was what came from getting too emotional! He hadn’t meant to say that bit about himself, but, they had just---and surely, Shunsui had to know how much he loved him? 

Maybe not. Shunsui always had so many lovers. Jūshirō was one of many. He knew that.

But, Shunsui hurried up the steps and rubbed his back, the way he always used to when things were good between them. Neither did he balk when Jūshirō was forced to cling to him for support.

Fingers clamped to Shunsui’s arm, Jūshirō managed to croak: “No more talk of dying. If either of us is to die, it’s supposed to be me. We agreed on that. Besides, now you have something else to live for, so I won’t hear of this nonsense again. Get your sandals and money-purse. This infant has already been imprisoned long enough.”

Shunsui's lips pressed lightly to Jūshirō’s forehead. “Look at you, you can barely stand and you’re still scolding me like a child.”

“Someone has to.”

“True enough, my love. True enough.”

#

The dampening properties of sekkiseki wrapped around them as they walked in through the front doors of the Maggot's Nest. It was somewhat akin to having a wet cloth pressed over your face, only for your entire body, and made Shunsui feel as though he was being slowly suffocated to death. How anyone could stand to work in such conditions, he had no idea.

It was disturbingly easy to gain access to what was supposed to be one of the most secure prisons in the Seireitei. Perhaps it helped that the Onmitsukidō Commander had recently accepted the captaincy of the 8th Division. Shihōin Hiruko’s attention was divided between old and new responsibilities, a situation made worse by their physical separation--the Maggot’s Nest was deep in the Shihōin estates and much of the Onmitsukidō had moved to the 8th with their commander, so Shunsui and Jūshirō only had to deal with clan employees.

Which might explain why they were so easily bribed.

In fact, when Jūshirō calmly explained that they would be leaving with a child, not one soul blinked an eye. Oh, palms went out early and often, but the only question asked was, “Do you have a specific type you’re looking for, gentlemen?”

They managed to fudge their replies until they reached the bottom of the final set of steep steps and were faced with the final warden of this dour and terrible place, at which point Shunsui said, "Yes,” just as Jūshirō said, “No.”

Shunsui flashed Jūshirō a look. Didn't he realise that this was their last chance to make sure they got Nanao? But Jūshirō didn't meet his eye. Instead, he stared at the warden’s face and said, “Bring all of them. Even the infants.”

After the warden had vanished behind yet another heavy door, Shunsui leaned in close and asked, “All? What are you playing at, Jū-chan?”

Jūshirō fell back against the wall he’d been standing beside and pressed a hand to his chest, clearly struggling to keep his breath calm. “Children. Just… I knew, I mean, of course I knew, but, somehow I didn’t think of how it would be, Shunsui. There are children in this place. We can’t… I can’t… we have to try to save more than one.”

“No. No, this is a very bad idea,” Shunsui replied immediately, though with a sense of fatalistic desperation. Once set on a course of action, however foolish, Jūshirō was devilish hard to derail. “It’s going to be difficult enough to get one out of this place, and I have a familial claim to her. They’ll never let us take them all. Besides, what would we do with them?” 

“I have a large family,” Jūshirō said, clutching at Shunsui’s sleeve again. “We could farm them out.”

“All of them? What if there are hundreds?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because Jūshirō’s face paled and he sagged still further. “My gods, what if there are? I’m going to be sick.”

Waving away the guards, who'd started to take an interest, Shunsui steered him over to a rough hewn bench that was attached to the stone wall with heavy chains. “Do your breathing exercises,” he admonished. Kneeling down in front of him, Shunsui took Jūshirō’s face in his hands and, capturing his gaze, held it steady and strong. “Let me handle this.”

"Are you sure?"

Shunsui put every scrap of confidence he didn't feel into his voice. "Completely."

“Okay,” Jūshirō said weakly. “But, Shunsui… please try.”

How could he resist such a plea? 

Besides, Jūshirō wasn’t wrong about this place. They’d been brought in the back way, so they'd only seen hints of the true conditions, but those hints were enough. 

They were deep underground, there was very little light beyond the sickly yellowish glow that the walls seemed to give off. Something smelled--a horrible tickling at the back of the throat that stank of piss and vomit. Everything was gray and dim. Shunsui could barely imagine surviving here as an adult, much less a child.

“Shhhh.” He wasn’t ready for this, not yet. He didn’t feel half clever enough. Thank gods there was enough alcohol left in his bloodstream that he might be able to fake the strength he needed. Letting go of Jūshirō’s face, he stood up and, straightening his new traveling hat, turned around. An idea started forming… though a very nebulous one.

“Act… disaffected,” he told Jūshirō quietly. “Like you’re bored with this whole thing.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

This from the man who already had a wet nurse in place? Still, Shunsui could understand it. Theory and reality were often vastly different things. “Then fake being asleep,” Shunsui said. “And whatever I say, make no protest.”

“Oh god…” Jūshirō muttered, but he swallowed the rest when the main door creaked open. 

There was a gaggle of them clustered around the warden, varying in maturity from a swaddled infant sleeping in the warden's arms to a boy about waist-height with one finger dug in his nose. But Shunsui's attention was entirely on Nanao. She was much more mature than Jūshirō had suggested, already past toddler stage, but she was completely unmistakable. Her eyes were just like her mother's.

Shunsui swallowed hard, ignoring Ohana's dark chuckle. Behind him, Jūshirō made a weak noise that sounded like a sob.

"This is the lot," the warden said, reaching behind him and yanking one of the little girls forward. Not Nanao, this one had pink hair and what looked like tattoos winding up her arms.

"We'll take the infant," Jūshirō said suddenly. He got up with a yawn and went over to take the infant from the warden, instantly beginning to coo at it. "My wife is currently confined and could easily pass it off as her own." 

That explained them taking one. What about the others? Shunsui hunted around for more reasons a single man should want a child and balked at most of what his brain supplied.

"And the older two girls too," Jūshirō continued, indicating Nanao and the pink haired girl. "They will work well as servant-companions as she gets older."

Of course, the perfect excuse. Since when had Jūshirō been better at lying than Shunsui? Apparently his time in the Military Police had lent him some skills Shunsui had never suspected.

"What about you, Shunsui? I thought you were looking to silence your family's wagging tongues about your disreputable ways."

That was a familiar enough dig to kick Shunsui's brain into gear. He forced his face into an abashed smile and, with a swish of the pink kimono draped over his shoulders, winked at the warden. “I’m a confirmed bachelor, if you know what I mean, and in need of an heir. I assume there's no other infants. We’re obviously prepared to pay a very pretty penny.”

“No, unfortunately,” the warden said. 

Behind him, the door pushed open slightly and another child slipped into the room. Taller than the others, he was barefoot and his gray yukata was threadbare and stained. “I could be a nobleman’s son,” he said, stepping warily past the warden with a determined tip of his chin. “I’ve taught myself to read.”

"Get back inside!" the warden snapped, raising his hand. "The lord's not looking for something like you."

Instead of flinching, the boy countered the attack with surprising speed. Shunsui swore he felt a sudden uptick in spiritual pressure, as though a nascent bakudo shield were forming near the boy’s forearm. Sure enough, the warden’s smack landed hard, in the air, centimeters from the boy’s flesh, and there was an unmistakable pink flash of power.

“I’ll take him,” Shunsui said before the warden could continue the beating. “He looks enough like me with those curls, does he not, Ukitake?” It wasn't a lie. The boy had soft brown curls that framed his face and squinted, foxy eyes. 

"He's a little too old for you, m'lord," the warden countered. "One of the younger ones, perhaps."

“Maybe you ran out of bribe money?” Jūshirō offered helpfully, in-between making faces at the baby. Nanao and the other girl were clustered around his knees, seemingly perfectly content with their new place in the world. 

"Try this one then." The warden shoved another of the children forward. "He actually is a noble's son." He looked like it too, small and delicate, almost pretty, with long straight blonde hair.

"But that one looks like me!" Shunsui protested, pointing at the first boy. If he was as powerful as Shunsui suspected, living here, enclosed by these sekkiseki walls, must be torture for him. He was definitely far too skinny and there were dark smudges under his eyes. 

"Use hair colour and curlers then," the warder replied, the courtesy he'd been showing them up until now entirely gone.

It was enough for Shunsui to remember himself. "I shall do no such thing," he boomed, putting some parade ground authority into his voice. "This is the child I want and this is the one I shall have!" He'd worry about the other three afterwards.

The warden cowered in a most satisfactory manner. "I just don't know how it's gonna work is all, m'lord," he said, bobbing obsequiously. “Sōsuke-kun's hardly a baby.”

"Leave me to work out the details," Shunsui shot back as, behind him, Jūshirō offered, "His clan's desperate enough for an heir that they'll happily believe any story. Perhaps a drunken accident with a Rukongai whore? I'm sure Kyōraku-dono can spin up some lie about why it took her so long to confess.”

The warden's face blanched at Shunsui's clan name, but he held his ground. “I don’t know, Kyōraku-sama. This one's dangerous. You’re gonna need a hard hand to keep him in line.”

The boy tucked his hands behind his back and actually attempted to bat his eyes. “I can be good for the right price.”

Shunsui couldn’t hold back his genuine appreciation of the boy’s spunk. “And what price is that, dear boy?”

“Freedom.” And then, perhaps knowing that the fierceness of his expression might seem a bit unsettling, he dipped his head demurely. “And a chance to serve a fine lord.”

Something else flitted through the air then, like the cold brush of a spider’s web. For the first time, Shunsui felt uneasy looking at the boy. “You don’t talk like a child.”

“Oh, he does, too,” Jūshirō said after making a raspberry at the baby. “A bookish one. I have a third cousin that was this precocious at that kind of age, just exactly like... Sōsuke-kun, was it?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said with a deep bow. “Aizen. My name is Aizen Sōsuke.”

“Well,” Shunsui said, “If he’s charmed my lover, we’ll take him. And the other three as well. I can find use for them in my household.”

“Okay,” said the warden skeptically. “It’s your funeral, gentlemen. But, if you’re takin’ this one outside of these walls, you’re gonna need a pair of these.” From his pocket, the warden pulled two thick, heavy bracelets. 

“What are they?” Jūshirō sounded horrified. 

“Spiritual pressure dampeners.” Seeing the bracelets, Sōsuke held out his hands obediently. The warden bent down and, using a key, locked them onto the boy’s wrists. He handed Shunsui the key. “Honestly? If I were you, I’d get ‘em for his ankles and put one around his neck too.”

Standing up, the warden wiped his hands on his hakama. “Seriously, gentlemen. You’ll come running back here the second you step outside, and, when you do, I’ll give you the name of my supplier.” His eyes never left the curly-haired child as he spoke. "Boy's been here a decade and he still needs 'em."

“I really don’t think that’ll be necess--” Jūshirō began.

Shunsui raised his hand to stop him. Had he not seen the boy conjure kidō in this place? If he could do that when enclosed on all sides by sekkiseki, then the warden may have a point. “That will be fine.”

The warden finally broke away to look Shunsui in the eye. “We don’t get a lot like this one, you understand. He’s been done up for good reason. ‘S why I’d advise against adopting, Kyōraku-sama.” 

“A criminal?” Shunsui looked the boy over again. “Are you suggesting the boy is already a murderer?”

The warden looked back at the boy and frowned at him darkly. “No. It’s not like that. We get some in here, rare ones, like this boy, who just… well, they’re a danger, ain’t they?”

“We’ll be the judge of that.” Shunsui had to put a hand on Jūshirō, who had started to cough. “Let’s just pay up, shall we? I think we’d all like to conclude this business quickly. Besides, I think I’m going to need a very stiff drink. Possibly several.”


	2. Chapter 2

Given Sōsuke’s bravado inside the prison, Jūshirō half-expected him to make a break for open air at the threshold, so he let Shunsui take point leading the children single-file up the dank hallways to the outside. Jūshirō himself walked a few paces behind Sōsuke, carrying the baby. 

Once they reached the door to the outside though, Sōsuke stopped dead, gripping the frame like he was afraid he might fall, and stared up at the sky. 

Jūshirō edged closer, wondering what the boy was looking at. There was nothing but cloudless blue. “Are you alright, Sōsuke-chan?”

“I… I don’t know what that is.”

“The sky?” Surely, the could not have kept this child locked down to the point of never having seen the outside at all? That would be barbaric! 

Shunsui had doubled back, leaving the rest of the children, holding hands, near the wall of the Second Division. “Trouble?”

Jūshirō shook his head. “Maybe lend Sōsuke-chan your new traveling hat for a bit? I don’t believe the boy has ever been outside.”

“Ever?” Shunsui blinked. But, he dutifully took off the new straw hat and placed it on Sōsuke’s head. With the oversized hat on his head, the boy looked a lot like Shunsui. Maybe their little ruse hadn’t been so far off the mark, after all? 

With the artificial “roof” over his head, Sōsuke seemed to relax. He held onto the hat and gave Shunsui a deep bow. “Thank you very much, Kyōraku-sama.”

So polite!

Or, perhaps… so afraid. Jūshirō had noticed, during their walk to the exit, all the cuts, marks, and bruises on Sōsuke’s body. Each one had made Jūshirō frown. Either his days were filled with beatings or with fights; Jūshirō couldn’t decide which bothered him most. 

Holding on to the borrowed hat with a manacled hand, Sōsuke took a cautious step out into the courtyard. Standing as close to the boy as he was Jūshirō could feel it… the sudden uptick in spiritual pressure emanating from Sōsuke. His reiatsu was reminiscent of the powerful sweep of the tides, as inexorable as time itself, and called to mind the mysterious rippling reflection of brilliant moon over dark, fathomless sea.

Despite his own soul-deep connection to the ocean, Jūshirō shivered.

The warden had not exaggerated this boy’s potential.

#

That night, after the older children had been tucked into one of the guest bedrooms and the wet nurse was settled with the baby in the servant’s quarters, Jūshirō shocked Shunsui by muttering, “I want to kill them all.”

They were in bed together. The night was filled with the sounds of gentle waves lapping against the dock and the air was warm enough that Shunsui had crawled between the sheets in nothing more than an old pair of karate gi that he’d forgotten he’d left behind after one of their many trysts. Jūshirō, meanwhile, looked resplendent in his silver-white yukata. 

Shunsui moved over to let Jūshirō settle beside him on the futon. “You’ve changed your tune,” he teased. “You told me that killing Central would be suicide.”

“Well, it would be,” Jūshirō snipped. “I just said I wanted to, I didn’t say I would.”

“That’s my Jūshirō,” Shunsui said, rolling over so that he could admire the way the moonlight played with the snow white of Jūshirō’s hair. “It’s all tolerable until children are involved.”

A deep frown crinkled Jūshirō’s brow and his dark eyebrows drew together as he continued to glare at the ceiling. “That’s not fair. I’m the only other person in the world that knows just how innocent Ise was. She didn’t steal the Divine Sword, you have it. And what were you going to do to prove her innocence, eh?” Jūshirō glanced at him, then, “Produce it? Then they would have called you a thief and condemned you as well."

Worse, those bastards would have it now, wouldn’t they? And then there'd be no way to kill the Soul King, however much Shunsui might need to in order to save Ukitake's life. Shunsui lay back with a heavy breath. Tucking his arms behind his head, he joined Jūshirō in staring at the vaulted wooden ceiling. “Do you really think that thing inside you is capable of holding the throne?”

“I do,” Jūshirō said firmly. “And I know you hate the idea, but I want it out of me.”

“Hmph,” Shunsui scoffed to hide his concern, and turned his head so he could study Jūshirō's profile in the dim light. “I get scolded when I talk about suicide, but I’m supposed to let you see this self-destructive plan of yours through?” 

“Yes,” Jūshirō said, softly. “It’s possible I might survive if I can get it out before it’s eaten my whole soul. Do you want to live with an empty husk? That’s what I’ll be in ten thousand years, just a shell for a monster.”

“Well, if he looks like you, I could love a monster.” 

Jūshirō's gaze cut sharply to his own, and the scepticism within it spoke volumes. Shunsui sighed gently and looked away. He’d meant to say ‘fuck.’ They’d never really talked about love, not out loud--not in so many words. But, something had changed since the day that Jūshirō had told him about Ise’s execution… after the fact, after anything could be done--foolish or otherwise.

Shunsui wanted to hate him for it.

But he understood.

He knew why Jūshirō had kept the secret until it was too late.

It was the same reason that Shunsui planned to hold onto the Divine Sword and use it if Jūshirō's plan didn't work. 

Love was selfish that way. 

Fixing his eyes on the ceiling, he did his best to explain. “I don’t want to love you this much, you know. You’re not a very convenient lover for me. You care too much. You and this crazy plan of yours and insanely idealized thought that the world might be a better place if all the broken parts of the Soul King were reunited. It’s a fool’s errand that’s sure to see you dead… which, frankly, I don’t think my heart can withstand. You’re too good for this world, Jūshirō. Far too good for me.” Shunsui let out a long breath and changed tack before he could say too much. “Speaking of which,” he uncurled a hand to rap a knuckle on Jūshirō’s forehead lightly. “I don’t always want a man. You’re very pretty. But, what are we going to do when I crave a woman’s body?”

Jūshirō lifted a hand and let it fall. “You’ll go find one, like you always do.”

“And you’ll put up with that? What if I want other men?”

“Just come home to me. And don’t kill yourself with drink.”

Shunsui chuckled and rolled over to plant a soft kiss on Jūshirō’s cool, thin lips. “With that, you might have finally asked too much of me, love.”

Jūshirō reached up and cupped Shunsui’s cheek. “Fine, but then your demons aren’t allowed to consume you any faster than Mimihagi devours me.”

“I have ten thousand years to die from a poisoned liver? Sounds like a good deal,” Shunsui said, and sealed it with a deeper kiss.

#

The morning came with baby’s cries and the sound of squeals and running feet. Jūshirō sat up with a yawn and a smile.

Shunsui buried his head under a pillow. He peeked out from between them to give Jūshirō a hard glare. “Why do you look so happy? This noise! It’s not even breakfast time!”

Jūshirō gave Shunsui a sympathetic look. At times like this, he pitied Shunsui. What must it have been like to have grown up in such an empty manor, without siblings to mind or cousins climbing into laps for cuddles? He patted Shunsui’s shoulder before slipping out of bed. “I’ll slide the door closed on the way out. Maybe I can have the children make you a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign.” He’d initially meant it as a joke, but the idea had merit. “Oh! That’ll be fun! I’ll dig out the paints and brushes!”

“I don’t even know you,” Shunsui was muttering, trying to bury himself in the blankets.

Except he did. Shunsui always said something like this every time he visited one of the Ukitake holdings. Jūshirō smiled at the memory of that first time he’d brought Shunsui to visit the main manorhouse; the poor man had been overwhelmed and buried in small children. They all still called him 'Uncle Bear'.

Once dressed, Jūshirō quietly slid the door to the bedroom shut and went in search of paints to get the children busy with the project. It took some doing, but he got everyone involved…. Everyone, except the eldest one, the curly haired boy who looked so much like Shunsui. 

“Sōsuke-chan?” Jūshirō turned to the wet nurse who was unscrolling more parchment, “Have you seen Sōsuke?”

It would have to be the dangerous one to go missing.

She mutely shook her head.

“Stay here,” Jūshirō assured her. “I’ll find him.”

He wasn’t in the kitchen. He wasn’t on the veranda. The bed they’d laid out for him and the others was put away. 

For a brief moment, Jūshirō feared they had a runaway on their hands. 

Then, while checking the veranda for the third time, he heard the waves splashing below. Ah, of course! Children always loved how the sea came right up into the first floor boat landing. Jūshirō took the stairs two at a time. Sure enough, there was Sōsuke. He was crouched down near the very edge of the water where the waves lapped up onto the stone floor, seemingly mesmerized by the ebb and flow that stopped just short of his bare toes.

His slender arms were wrapped around his knees, the heavy manacles on his thin wrists glinted darkly in the morning light. He did not lift his head at Jūshirō’s approach, though Jūshirō thought he saw the boy’s shoulders tighten. 

He stopped several feet back.

The garage was empty of its boat. Jūshirō rented this one out to the Shima family, after theirs had been lost to a squall. Nets and fishing poles lined the walls and the light reflecting off the water dappled the walls, shifting with each lap of wave. A peaceful refuge, then.

“Well,” Jūshirō said kindly, turning back towards the stairway. “If you’re alright. I’ll leave you to it.”

Sōsuke lifted an arm, as if to show off the manacles. “You needn’t worry, master. I could hardly get far, could I?” He turned to look at Jūshirō then, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s quite clear I’m someone’s property.”

They were going to have do something about those, but what? It was true that even the most laissez-faire of the cousins would raise an eyebrow or two at being given a young ward who came with handcuffs and a key. “You may have to stay with me awhile. I can teach you how to cloak your power.”

The boy scoffed, “You? I never even felt your approach; you have no idea--”

Jūshirō let out a tiny amount of his reiatsu, mindful of the children above them.

“Oh,” Sōsuke suddenly shot to his feet. Turning, he squinted meaningfully at Jūshirō for several heartbeats. Then, he seemed to catch the sight of something and stepped back, his bare foot splashing into the water. “Oh! That wasn’t even half of it, was it?”

“No, child, it wasn’t even _close_ to half.” Another secret he’d kept. Long ago, he’d learned to hide the power he had. At first, it had been at his parent’s instruction, to cloak the presence of the god that devoured him, Mimihagi. Later it served to hide his own growing strength… a strength that might even surpass Shunsui’s--if he ever allowed it to crest the surface.

“You hide so much?”

“I do.”

The boy was breathless, his desire sincere. “Teach me. Please.”

#

It was much later in the day, after Jūshirō had sent the children out wild strawberry-picking with a neighboring family, that Shunsui finally had a chance to pour himself a bowl of sake. He took it out to his favorite spot on the veranda, overlooking the sea.

There were paint splotches everywhere. 

Finding a mostly undisturbed section of flooring, Shunsui sat down. With a bowl of fresh, hot tea in hand, Jūshirō joined him. He looked anything but exhausted. In fact, he was humming some nursery rhyme under his breath. When he recognized it, Shunsui raised a hand, “Please, anything but Kagome Kagome.’”

“It’s your fault it’s stuck in my head,” Jūshirō teased with a smile. “You’ve been playing it with them all day.”

That and ‘Daruma-san ga koronda’ and tag and about seventeen rounds of hide-and-seek. Shunsui could pretend to be annoyed by it all, but he'd had a fun, if exhausting time. “I was surprised our young Mr. Sōsuke joined in.”

“He may be warming up to us.” Jūshirō stretched his legs out until his stocking feet hung over the ledge. “I might have agreed to keep him around until I can teach him to control his reiatsu.”

“My, my,” Shunsui couldn’t keep the smile from his tone, because of course he had. Of course they would somehow be keeping one of them. Of course it was the most troublesome one. He let out a sigh. Well, he supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t the infant. “I will no doubt be impressed with the story you’re going to spin to your captain about why you suddenly have a child attached to your hakama while on duty.”

“I’ll take unpaid leave. Family emergency.” Jūshirō waved his hand dismissively, as though that part was unimportant. “Sosuke-chan seems clever enough. I doubt it will take him more than a month to master what he needs to get by. In a few years, Academy can teach him the rest.”

Shunsui took a long draught of sake and watched the waves. Clever enough? They were talking about a boy who could intuitively form a bakudō shield inside a prison made of sekkiseki. And what would Academy make of such talent?

“You think it’s a bad idea,” Jūshirō noted. “But, I don’t see a better option, Shunsui. What would you have us do? Send him back to the Maggot’s Nest? Say, ‘Sorry, he doesn’t suit our needs,’ and ask for a refund?”

Shunsui briefly considered it. “No doubt they’ve already spent my money.”

Jūshirō smacked his arm. “Besides the fact that it would be cruel. He’s done nothing wrong and you know it. Sōsuke-chan was born with a kind of power that terrifies people. That’s not his fault. There’s nothing inherently evil about being strong.”

Shunsui chuckled darkly. “Tell that to Central 46.”

Jūshirō looked as if he might say something to that, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Are we expecting anyone?” 

Shunsui pulled himself to his feet and drained his bowl of sake. “Could the children be back already? They only just left!”

“They wouldn’t knock.”

“Right.” Children’s games Shunsui understood; children, not so much.

As Jūshirō cautiously slid open the door, Shunsui hung back near the kitchen table. Both blades of Katen Kyōkatsu were propped casually on a nearby stool. From the front hall, Shunsui could hear Jūshirō’s confused, “Hirako Shinji? To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“We?” Hirako slipped off his sandals and stepped in like he’d been invited. Once inside, he had a clear line of sight into the kitchen. Seeing Shunsui, he nodded. “Lieutenant Kyōraku.”

Shunsui lifted a hand in greeting. “Mr. Shinji! You’ve come just in time for an evening bottle of sake!”

“Lucky me.” Hirako’s lanky frame belied the fact that he was shorter than even Jūshirō by several inches. He came loping into the kitchen and plunked himself down on one of the many stools, a clever eye taking in Katen Kyōkotsu. “Expectin’ bandits?”

“Certainly not expecting you,” Shunsui said, setting out the ‘good’ bowls, a set of three, each hand-painted with pairs of fishes. 

“Come now, Shunsui,” Jūshirō said with a little nervous laugh. “We’re always happy to see Shinji-kun. Oh, I think I have some apricot-stuffed bread in the cooler. Let me fetch it. I’ll only be a second. Shunsui, pull down some plates.”

Jūshirō headed down the stairs and Shunsui did as instructed. “Have you been enjoying the cherry blossoms?” he asked, setting a plate in between where Shinji had propped his elbows on the tabletop. Shinji had his head cocked to the side and was giving Shunsui one of his unnerving expressions--the kind that was hard to read and showed off far too many perfectly square teeth. “Are you staying somewhere nearby?”

“Nah, it’s a workin’ holiday for me.”

“And what business does the Twelfth Division have in a small, First District fishing village?” Shunsui asked. With the plates laid out, he uncorked the bottle of sake he’d started earlier and poured them each a drink. “Kampai.”

Hirako took a sip and then tapped his cup against Shunsui’s. “Clink,” he said. After taking another swallow, he said, “My captain seems to think you’ve stolen her prey.”

“What?” Jūshirō clutched the box of sweet bread to his chest. “Captain Shutara? ‘Prey’? What does that mean?”

“Ya stole some kid from the Maggot’s Nest she had her eye on,” Hirako said. 

“News travels fast,” Shunsui said, sitting himself down. “It hasn’t even been a day.”

Hirako set the bowl down carefully, and glanced around. “So, does that mean you got this Aizen kid stashed around here somewhere? ‘Cuz, I’m supposed to bring him back with me.”

“No,” Jūshirō said emphatically at the same time Shunsui chuckled and said, “Well, that’s not going to happen.”

Hirako made a sad face, but otherwise made no threatening move. “Whatta you two gonna do with him? Planning on playing happy families or something?”

Jūshirō blushed, continuing to stand in the doorway clutching his box of cake. Shunsui took another drink and then took a moment to fill Hirako’s bowl for him. “Why don’t you start at the beginning, Mr. Shinji? What claim does Captain Shutara have on the boy?”

“It ain’t nothin’ official. That’s why she’s mad you stole him,” he said around a mouthful of sake. “But, she’s had her eye on him since he showed up in the system. I guess his spiritual pressure is off the charts. She just wants ta borrow a little of it for her experiments.“

“No,” Jūshirō said again. 

“I thought your good captain was in the sewing business,” Shunsui said, taking another sip. “Why don’t you put the bread down, Jūshirō? We might as well have a taste since you went to the trouble to fetch it.”

Jūshirō frowned and, if anything, clutched the box tighter. “I don’t think I want to share my bread with someone who’s come on such awful business.”

“Hey now,” Hirako said, “Ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black? What do two grown men need with a young boy they bought and paid for, huh? That’s a little dark and dirty, ain't it?”

That was a mistake. Never bring up the abuse of children to Ukitake Jūshirō. Before Jūshirō could do something he’d later regret, Shunsui got up, grabbed his swords with one hand and Hirako by the elbow with the other. As he muscled them both out the door, they could hear Jūshirō shout, “No. That’s it! Get out of my house.”

Hirako didn’t much resist Shunsui’s manhandling. So, once they were on the cobblestone street, Shunsui let go. “Listen, friend, we have no fight with Captain Shutara. We had no idea she had some kind of prior interest.” Hell, they’d taken the boy home on an impulse! “However, as you can see, my partner will never tolerate the suggestion of experimentation on the lad.” He slowly and deliberately slid Katen Kyōkotsu, one at a time, into place at his hip. “I’m afraid we’re at an impasse.” 

Hirako raised his hands, palms out. “No need for any of that. I can’t fight you and win, Lieutenant. Anyway, I’m not on suicide orders. Captain just wanted me to suss out the situation, see if y’all were amenable to a little profit sharing. But, I see that’s off the table.”

“Most definitely,” Shunsui said, resting an elbow on the hilts of his zanpakutō.

Hirako tugged at his shorter front bangs. “Well, that’s a shame.”

When Hirako made no move to leave, Shunsui asked, “Do we have to worry about your Division trying to steal him from us?”

“Probably.”

Shunsui frowned. “He’s that important to Captain Shutara?”

Hirako shrugged. “Look, I don’t know. I’m just the messenger.”

Something about Hirako’s casualness had Shunsui asking, “Are you just delaying me here long enough for your soldiers to find the boy?”

Hirako pointed to his own nose. He cocked his head to the side and gave an evil little grin. “Took ya long enough, Lieutenant.”

Shunsui slammed back into the house to find the cake abandoned on the table and Jūshirō nowhere in sight. "'Shiro!" he called. "We've got to go. Hirako's men are-"

"Going to try and kidnap Sōsuke. I know," Jūshirō finished for him, emerging from the bedroom with his zanpakuto already hooked to his belt and a thunderous expression on his face. "We should have realised the moment he brought up Shutara." He swept past, an avenging spirit in paint-splattered clothing. "That woman will bring disaster down on all our heads with her incessant fiddling." 

Shunsui turned to follow him and together they stepped into shunpo, heading towards the mountain side where the early strawberries grew.


	3. Chapter 3

Sōsuke crouched in the wild strawberry patch with the other children. Everyone was busy gathering fruit, but he was having trouble concentrating on the task at hand. Every time he looked up, the horizon startled him. There was no end to it, and even tugging down on the brim of the hat Kyōraku-sama had lent him didn't block it out entirely. 

He did his best to ignore the vast emptiness above him and focused instead on the verdant hills, solid at his back. That, at least, was a sensation he understood--but the sea… and the sky…

He’d never known a world without walls.

There was so much new, so much to take in. And not just all the sounds coming from the trees and sky. Every time the breeze rustled down the hillside, pulling at his clothes and hair, Sōsuke jumped, thinking someone had touched him. 

But he didn't lash out with his power. Sōsuke was proud of himself for that. Not even when the little buzzing creatures in the air started biting. Instead he focused back on the baffling patch of strawberries at his feet.

Even these small things seemed beyond his comprehension.

When they'd first arrived at the hillside, the oba-san had shown them the strawberry plants and given them each a berry to try. Sōsuke's had been sweet and moist and full of wonderful flavour, and he'd set off in search of his own full of excitement.

He'd found some easily enough, bright red splotches peeping out from beneath lush greenery, and had starting collecting them enthusiastically. But something must have gone wrong because, unlike the fruit the oba-san had given him, all the strawberries Sōsuke picked tasted dry and bitter and made his tongue feel strange.

After studying the handful of fruit in his basket, he thought maybe colour was what was important, but some of the reddest strawberries tasted the worst. Then he tried size, but that didn't seem to make a difference either. Finally, Sōsuke gave up sampling them and just put everything he picked in the basket, since someone was bound to like them.

It was about half full when Tarō, the boy in charge of their little team, came by. He peered into Sōsuke's basket and snapped, "Those aren't strawberries, stupid," and grabbed the fruit that Sōsuke had worked so hard to pick and threw them into the bushes. Then he stalked off up the hill.

Sōsuke glared at his retreating back, stinging at the insult. How dare he call Sōsuke stupid! That wasn't true. Sōsuke had taught himself to read. Someone who was stupid wouldn't be able to do that. 

Surely it couldn't be any harder to distinguish between strawberries and these other red fruit.

He rescued a few from the bushes and stared at them closely. They were red and round with green stalks, just like the strawberry the oba-san had given him, and yet…

Sousuke bit his lip. The obvious thing to do was ask for help, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. As a non-stupid person, he should be able to work it out for himself. 

Carefully, he watched as Kukuri poked about in a plants several yards away. The ones she was searching had white flowers, not yellow like the plants Sōsuke had been picking from.

Perhaps that was the answer. Maybe sweet strawberries only grew on the plants with white flowers. 

Rescuing his basket, Sōsuke moved a little way up the slope and tried again, this time being careful only to pick fruit that grew on the plants with white flowers. That seemed to work. The next strawberry he tried was moist and sweet, and tasted just as wonderful as the one the oba-san had given him. 

Pretty soon he had a whole basket of red strawberries from the the white flowered plant and, feeling proud of himself, carried them over to the oba-san, who was sitting with two other women under a tree.

Nanao-chan was with them, curled up against the nurse's side, sucking her thumb. She'd not been allowed to pick strawberries with the rest of them, only with the grown-ups, so when they'd had to stop to feed the babies, she'd had to stop too. Now, seeing how full Sōsuke's basket was, her eyes went wide and she sat up. 

Sōsuke gave her a considering look. Should he bother to share some of the strawberries with her? It was true that Nanao-chan didn't really have anything to offer in return, but Kyōraku-sama did seem especially fond of her, and he was obviously a very important man. Decided, Sōsuke hunkered down beside her, chose the largest strawberry in the basket and offered it over. 

The oba-san plucked it from his hand before Nanao could take it. "That's very generous, Sōsuke-kun," she said, "but you should give Nanao-chan a more beautiful one, don't you think." She plopped the big strawberry back in the basket and picked up another smaller one, which she gave to Nanao with instruction to say thank you.

Sōsuke ignored the strawberry-muffled gratitude and squinted down at the fruit in his basket. Why was that one beautiful and the one he'd offered Nanao-chan not? He'd been sure that he'd understood strawberries now, yet apparently he'd been wrong, and in the process of trying to impress, he'd come close to making himself look stupid again.

Chewing his lip, he glanced up at the nurse, weighing his options. He didn't like asking for help, but perhaps he did need a little more information if he was going to avoid making the same mistake again. 

"Oba-san?" he said, before he could change his mind. "Can you help me choose some strawberries for Ukitake-dono, please?"

She smiled down at him, jiggling the baby. "Of course I can, Sōsuke-kun. Pick out the reddest ones, they're normally the ripest. And try to avoid any with green on them. They'll be quite sour."

That would be easy. Sōsuke picked his way through the basket, selecting the reddest fruit, until the oba-san said suddenly, "Not that one, dear. Something's been munching on it."

It had? How could she tell? Sōsuke peered at the berry he'd just picked up. To him, it looked just like all the others. 

He brought it closer, willing himself to see whatever it was the oba-san could, so he'd be able to tell good strawberries from the bad ones. As he strained, his head started to throb and the bracelets around his wrists began to get warm, but the berry became clearer. He could almost see it. Almost... 

"Kaa-san!" Tarō yelled from further up the hillside, making Sōsuke jump. "There's someone coming!" 

"Can you see who it is?" one of the other women called back, seemingly unperturbed. 

Tarō, already standing on top of a rock, went up on tiptoe and shielded his eyes. "Not sure. I can't see… Oh, shit! Kaa-san, they've got swords!"

"Swords!" Oba-san clutched the baby to her chest. 

Sōsuke froze. To him, people with swords only meant one thing. Shinigami. 

They'd come for him. To take him back to that place! They were going to lock him up again, just when he'd discovered so many new things about the world that he wanted to know more about. Like Ukitake's hidden power and strawberries.

Snatching up his basket, he ran. Behind him, the oba-san was calling the rest of the children, telling them to follow him. 

But why? That made no sense, unless she thought that by catching him first, she'd get in the shinigami's good books.

Sōsuke put on a spurt of speed, but Tarō was faster. He swept past Sōsuke, grabbing his arm and yanking him off course. Sōsuke's hat flew from his head, caught by a gust of wind.

"Get off me!" Sōsuke shrieked, tugging to get free. His basket tumbled to the ground spilling red strawberries everywhere.

"Then stop running up the hill, idiot!" Tarō snapped back, letting him go anyway. He peeled away from Sōsuke, heading down the slope towards… oh! 

Nestled in a hollow not far away was a thicket. Not huge, but big enough for several children to hide in. Sōsuke sprinted towards it, registering Kukuri running in from the opposite direction with Sato and Tsuboi hard on her heels. There was no sign of Nanao or the babies.

Sōsuke didn't stop to think, he plunged into the thicket after Tarō, his new clothing snagging on thorns and branches. One whipped back, catching him across the face and he cried out before he could stop himself.

"Shut up," Tarō snarled from somewhere ahead. Suddenly he was grabbing Sōsuke's arm and dragging him down to ground level. "In there," he said, pointing urgently.

Through a blur of green undergrowth, Sōsuke could just make out the entrance of what might be an underground cave. He crawled towards it, hearing Tarō guide the others in, just like he had Sōsuke. Like he knew exactly what to do. Like he'd rehearsed having to do it.

But why were the people here so scared? Shinigami were supposed to be the good guys, or so the guards always insisted, anyway. And it wasn't like they were going to be taken back to prison. 

Shivering, Sōsuke pressed his back to the cold lumpy wall as Kukuri and the others crawled into the tiny cave. More children followed, forcing him further back into the cave, until they were packed in like sardines. Tarō was last in. On the way, he grabbed bits of bush and pulled it in after him, covering the entrance so that even if someone did come into the thicket, they'd probably miss the cave completely.

"Is it really bandits?" Tsuboi asked. It wasn't easy to see in the dark but he seemed to be clutching his hand like maybe it was hurting and Sōsuke could feel him shaking where their shoulders were pressed together..

Tarō, more visible in the dim light over by the entrance, had his head down like maybe he was scowling at his own knees. "They must have been. No one else carries swords."

"Shinigami do." Sōsuke hadn't meant to say that, but now he could feel everyone's eyes on him. "Well, they do."

"Only if they're hunting hollows," Tarō scoffed quietly.

"Hollows?" 

"You know, monsters." Tarō waved his hands by his head and stuck his tongue out. 

Sōsuke had no idea what a hollow was, or why a shinigami might hunt them. But he knew monsters.

"The warden says Sōsuke-kun's a monster." Kukuri's small voice rang through the tiny space and suddenly Sōsuke found himself very much alone. The others weren't just staring at him, they'd pulled away from him as if touching him might turn them into monsters too.

Well, good. He didn't want them as friends anyway. They were all stupid.

"So what if I am. There's nothing wrong with monsters."

Tarō looked at him like he was the stupid one. "They eat people, idiot," he said. The kids who hadn't come from the other place all nodded. "That's why shinigami hunt them."

Kukuri made a quiet sobbing sound in the corner. "Is Sōsuke-kun going to eat us?"

If she didn't stop, he might think about it.

"Course he's not. He's not a real monster."

"I am!" Sōsuke thrust out his arms to show off the bracelets. "That's what these are. They're to stop me from turning into a monster and eating everyone up!"

Tarō glared at the bracelets, then up at Sōsuke. "I don't believe you," he said. "It doesn't work like that."

"Does too!" It didn't, of course, but he couldn't back down. Not in front of everyone. They'd really think he was stupid then.

"Prove it," Tarō shot back. "Take them off and go eat the bandits."

Sōsuke jerked his hands back, hiding the bracelets under his sleeves. "I can't. Kyōraku-sama has the keys."

"Then you're just a stupid liar who should shut up!"

The insult stung like a smack. 'Right!' Sōsuke thought, he'd show them who was stupid. 

Squeezing his eyes closed, he hated Tarō and Kukuri and Tsuboi and the oba-san and everyone who'd got him into this mess. Even Ukitake-dono and Kyōraku-sama. He hated and, as he hated, he pushed that hate outwards as power, like he did in the prison when the warden was mean to him. Or when the guards tried to do things he didn't like. He hated and pushed and pushed and hated.

The bracelets on his wrists began to get hot. Sōsuke didn't let it stop him. Instead he pushed harder and hated more, dredging up every little slight, every insult, every put down and sneer, until his head was ringing with them. 

Someone hit him on the shoulder. Sōsuke ignored it. And when it happened again, he made some of his hate harder so they couldn't hurt him anymore. Soon several people were drumming on the shield around him and there was yelling. On his wrists, the bracelets had started to spark. That meant any moment now they were going to fail.

They went with a bang that scared even Sōsuke. He jumped, automatically throwing his hands over his head. The bracelets flew off and thudded into something soft. Sōsuke opened his eyes slowly and looked around. The other kids had stopped hitting him just before the bracelets exploded and now he knew why. They were all asleep. 

Or.. dead?

Tentatively, he reached out and shoved Tsuboi in the shoulder. He slid off Kukuri's back and landed with a thump on the rocky ground. But he was still breathing. Sōsuke could see his chest going up and down. Kukuri's too. He hadn't killed them. 

So maybe he wasn't a monster after all.

Outside, and some distance away, someone started yelling. "This way! It's definitely coming from that thicket of trees!"

The shinigami! Now he wasn't wearing the bracelets, they could feel him again.

Quickly, he tried to gather himself back in again, the way Ukitake-dono had shown him when they first came out of the other place. Breathe, he'd said. Sit here beside me and hold my hand. See, there's nothing to be scared of. Just breathe and when you feel like you're starting to float, pull it all back to the middle. Slowly now, you don't want to hurry it. Just let it happen naturally.

Sōsuke opened his eyes again, and he knew that he'd managed to get it to work. Mostly because whoever it was outside thrashing about in the thicket was saying, "Damn, it's gone. Little bastard must have put the bracelets back on."

The bracelets. 

They'd fallen on the ground just beyond Kukuri. Sōsuke leaned over and picked them up, a plan forming in his mind. If the shinigami were looking for the boy wearing the bracelets, it stood to reason they'd assume that whichever boy was wearing the bracelets was Sōsuke and take him away. Especially if there was no one else around to tell them different.

Tarō was closest to the cave entrance. Sōsuke scrambled over the others until he could reach him and forced the blackened bracelets closed around Tarō's wrists. It wasn't a perfect solution, if the shinigami knew how the bracelets worked, they might realise the subterfuge, but if they didn't…

Crawling back to the space between Tsuboi and Sato, Sōsuke let out just enough power for the shinigami outside to start yelling with excitement, and then lay down in Sato's lap and pulled it all back in again.

Only just in time too. No more than a couple of heartbeats later, the thrashing came closer and then the cave suddenly got lighter and someone yelled, "Here, sir! In this cave. The little shit was hiding!"

It took every scrap of courage Sōsuke had not to panic as the shinigami grabbed Tarō and dragged him away, especially when one of the shinigami said, "There's other kids in there too. We taking them?"

"Nah. Hirako-jūseki said just the one in bracelets. Leave the rest where they are."

Sōsuke waited for at least five minutes after the shinigami had left before daring to move. And even then, he crawled out of the cave and crept to the edge of the clearing to check they weren't lying in wait.

They weren't. In fact, there was no sign of anyone in any direction. The hillside was deserted and the tree where the nurses and babies had been sitting, was empty too.

Sōsuke stood up. He should leave. Sooner or later, Tarō would wake up and the shinigami would realise they had the wrong boy, and then they'd be back. But where to go, that was the question. Sōsuke had no idea where he was, beyond somewhere in the first district of Rukongai. He could easily run straight into the returning shinigami without meaning to.

But going back to the funaya seemed unwise as well, since, if the shinigami had found him out here, it was likely someone from there had told them where he was.

The idea of it being Ukitake-dono who had betrayed him made Sōsuke's belly twist. He'd seemed so nice, and had promised to help Sōsuke control his power properly; the first person Sōsuke had ever met to suggest that that might even be possible.

And then there was his incredible power. That little glimpse had left Sōsuke breathless and desperate to see more. 

No, it was easier to believe it was Kyōraku-sama who'd turned him in. Perhaps he was scared of a monster like Sōsuke being near his Nanao-chan. Or jealous that his favorite wasn't as strong.

That was a comforting thought. Sōsuke didn't mind being thought of as a monster if it meant he was strong.

"Sōsuke-kun!" 

Sōsuke jumped as his name resounded across the hillside. A flash of green and white, and then he was suddenly being scooped up into strong arms and hugged so tight he could hardly breathe.

"Uki-take-dono," he gasped, pushing pointlessly at shoulders that refused to give way.  
Through strands of sweet smelling white hair he saw Kyōraku-sama gazing at him from under his hat - the one Sōsuke had lost when he was running away. For a brief second those grey eyes seemed to see all of Sōsuke, right down to his very bones, and then Kyōraku laughed. "Well, it seems our worries were for naught, Jūshirō. Sōsuke-kun is still here and quite well."

Putting one hand on his head, he tipped his hat back and looked around. "Though the same might not be true for the others. Where are they, Sōsuke-kun?"

"I… I don't know, sir," Sōsuke lied as Ukitake finally released him from the hug. 

"Oh stop harassing him, Shunsui," he said, grasping Sōsuke by the shoulders and pushing him back a step. "Can't you see the boy's been traumatised enough." 

"I can see he's the only one awake and conscious."

Ukitake jerked, his head coming up as he frowned. "You're right." His gaze turned on Sōsuke. "What on earth happened, Sōsuke-kun?" 

Another lie built behind his teeth. He didn't want to lie to Ukitake-dono, but he didn't want to tell him the truth either, not when it might mean giving himself away to Kyōraku. And it wasn't like they didn't lie. They'd told the warden that Nanao-chan was to be a servant.

"I--" he began.

"The truth, boy."

Sōsuke swallowed hard, dragged his gaze away from Kyōraku's stern face and said, "The shinigami came for me so I blew out the bracelets and put them on Tarō so they'd take him and not me."

For a long second neither of them spoke, then Ukitake chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you did say he was resourceful, Shunsui." He glanced up over his shoulder. "You'd better go and wake the others. I daresay Shinji will be back once he realises his mistake."

Fear curdled in Sōsuke's belly. "We have to go!" he cried, tugging free of Ukitake's grip. "Now!" 

But his escape was only temporary. Ukitake's hand closed around his wrist and hung on tight, even when Sōsuke yanked on it, desperate to get free. Panic flared through him, and with it came his power, escaping the tight hold he'd had on it. 

And now the shinigami were definitely going to find him. 

Frantic, he hunkered down, arms going over his head, trying to pull it all back in again. Tears were streaming down his face, he knew they were, and he felt so stupid, so weak, because this was all his fault. If he wasn't so useless, then none of this would have happened.

If he was stronger, he could control his power.

Eventually, through the storm still raging in his ears, he became aware of two things. A voice quietly murmuring: "It's okay, sweetheart. Just breathe. Remember what I told you. Find your centre," and the sensation of being enclosed in a giant hug. It was so giant, so far reaching, that it managed to reach to the very edges of Sōsuke's power.

It was also familiar. Sōsuke had felt it before, though only a scrap of its potential. Now, he started to fathom the true reality of it. It was terrifying, and also the most amazing thing he had felt in his life.

He lifted his head, staring with amazement up into green eyes that were usually so gentle, and saw a hint of something else looking back. Something that was very much _not_ Ukitake-dono. It was vast and devastating. Older than the moon, and stronger than tides. And it was cold, detached, like a foot that crushes an ant is detached. Not because it doesn't care, but because normally it doesn't notice.

Now Sōsuke had its notice. And he didn't like it at all.

Hiccuping, and eyes still locked on Ukitake's, he fought to get his breathing under control. He managed it and, as his own power ebbed, the 'thing' inside Ukitake withdrew, leaving behind only familiar concern. 

Finally Ukitake-dono smiled at him a little wanly and started rubbing circles on Sōsuke's back. "There we go. All under control again. That was very well done, Sōsuke-kun."

The sensation was surprisingly soothing. Sōsuke felt his limbs getting heavy and he leaned against Ukitake's side, allowing himself to be comforted.


	4. Chapter 4

The soldiers arrived soon after. 

Shunsui sat down beside Jūshirō and the boy to wait. They'd sent the other children back with the wet nurse so, while Jūshirō rocked and comforted Sōsuke, softly singing some wordless lullaby, Shunsui lay back in the berry patch, tipped the hat over his face, and closed his eyes. 

When Hirako and his soldiers flashed into formation, surrounding them, Shunsui could sense their surprise at finding the three of them in such a seemingly casual position. He was tempted to roll over and fake a snore. Instead, he waited for Hirako’s shadow to block the sunlight before lifting the straw hat and opening his eyes. “Ah, if we keep meeting like this Mr. Hirako, people are going to start to talk!”

“Heh,” there were too many teeth in the grimace Hirako pulled to call it a smile. Then he looked way, tossing his hair over his shoulder, as if unconcerned. “It’s like this. My guys accidentally nabbed the wrong kid, so, if it’s all the same to you, we’ll just swap ‘em out and get outta yer hair.”

“It’s not the same to us,” Shunsui said with a yawn. 

Hirako frowned back down at him. “Well, now I’ve got a bunch of back-up, see. I’m thinking my odds are better.”

“They’re really not,” Shunsui said with a disarming smile. “But, why fight? Aren’t we all friends here? Don’t we all serve the same master?”

Hirako’s lower lip jutted out. He turned to one of his soldiers. “Figures. He wants to go running home ta Daddy.”

Jūshirō looked up from where he’d been bent over Sōsuke’s tousled hair. At some point, the boy had crawled into Jūshirō’s lap and Jūshirō had curled around him protectively. “Do you think that’s wise, Shunsui? We don’t know what Genryūsai-sensei would say.”

Shunsui was fairly certain he did, in point of fact, know exactly what Yama-jii would say. This kind of turf squabble was the sort of thing that the Old Man hated. Besides, even if theirs was the slipperier moral ground, Yama-jii tended to distrust the captains with a scientific bent. He didn’t take kindly to all this tinkering with the natural order. 

Hirako, meanwhile, was staring thoughtfully at the child in Jūshirō’s arms. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “But the kid tags along.”

Shunsui took a moment to do a revised risk assessment. Given that display of reiatsu Shunsui’d felt a moment ago, would Yama-jii feel threatened by the boy? No, not Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni. He was a grizzled, seasoned warrior. This brown-eyed child would barely register in his eyes. 

In many ways, it could be to their advantage to have the boy there. Captain Shutara’s request to experiment on such a malnourished slip of a child would seem far more monstrous than their simple desire to…

...hmmm, what _were_ they going to tell the Old Man they’d been thinking?

Shunsui could think of only one thing Yama-ji would respect: an apprenticeship. They’d just have to tell the Old Man that’d been their plan all along. 

The other concern was Ise. They’d have to keep the focus on this one child. Yama-jii would not be impressed by Jūshirō’s soft-heartedness. Nor would he much care for their defiance of Central 46.

Shunsui adjusted the kimono on his shoulders. 

Well, if Yama-jii dared to bring that up, then they’d cross that bridge, wouldn’t they? 

Turning back to Hirako, Shunsui squinted up into the sun. “Why not? I’m sure little Mr. Sōsuke would enjoy a trip to the big city!” Pulling himself to his feet, he smiled down at Hirako. “But you’ll have to let us stop at all the street vendors. I have a hankering for kakigōri!”

“This ain’t no pleasure trip,” Hirako complained, but began turning to leave anyway.

“Not for you,” Shunsui agreed with a laugh. Reaching a hand out to Jūshirō to help him to his feet, Shunsui added, “But my partner and I are still on holiday!”

“But--” Hirako started, but then shrugged. “Eh, why not. Ice cream sounds kinda good right now.”

#

Jūshirō was a little surprised that they all actually did stop off for kakigōri on the way to the First Division. But, then, once Shunsui agreed to accompany Sōsuke to the Seireitei, Hirako had sent several of his soldiers to deliver the other poor child, Tarō, back to the anxious waiting hands of his mother. The rest, he’d dismissed, so it was just the four of them that had shunpo’d to the Western Gate of the Seireitei.

Jūshirō helped Sōsuke choose a tasty flavour. The boy insisted that he wanted to try something other than strawberry. Jūshirō had thought it might be a good idea to go with the more familiar, but Sōsuke made a compelling argument that he might as well take a risk since even the shaved ice was new to him and so there was no guarantee he’d like any of it. 

Besides, he could hardly deny the boy his fun, particularly knowing that if things went sour with Genryūsai-sensei, this could very well be Sōsuke’s last moment of freedom.

But, when the boy randomly picked matcha, Jūshirō made sure to make his own order strawberry just in case green tea was too strong.

As all of this was happening, Jūshirō noticed Hirako had summoned a Hell butterfly. No doubt to send a report to his captain. 

Standing with Sōsuke to watch how the kakigōri vendor used his special wooden turntable to shave the block of ice, Jūshirō wondered if they should be doing the same. 

He and Shunsui had had no private moments to discuss strategy, but it was probably a mistake to involve his own captain, at least. The current captain of the Ninth, Katamura was a very hardline rule-follower --a no nonsense personality that suited his special duty as chief military police officer. Jūshirō didn’t think Katamura would be particularly happy to discover his lieutenant embroiled in what could be construed as ‘child trafficking.’ Certainly, it was legally questionable to have bought a bevy of children from the Maggot’s Nest, even if Jūshirō had no doubt whatsoever of the morality of his actions, and would do it again, in a heartbeat.

When the ice-cream vendor handed them their treats, Sōsuke held onto his carefully. Jūshirō had expected him to dig right in, but instead Sōsuke seemed to look to Jūshirō for clues. So, he led the boy over to a rough wooden bench that was set up for customers, sat down and placed the little bowl of kakigōri on his own lap, saying, “Itadakimasu.”

Sōsuke copied him, even waiting until Jūshirō took a first bite before doing the same. His eyes lit up at the taste. “Wow!”

Jūshirō couldn’t help but ruffle the boys curls. “I’m so glad you like it.”

“Oh, yes!” Then, Sōsuke’s face went very solemn, and he added, “Thank you very much, sir.”

Jūshirō wasn’t sure why Sōsuke’s politeness gave him a twinge of sadness, but it did. He smiled kindly and said, “You’re very welcome, young sir.”

When Sōsuke returned his attention to the ice, Jūshirō shifted his to watch Shunsui and Hirako. Hirako stood in the street, munching on his treat, constantly giving Shunsui the most suspicious side-eye. Shunsui, who was clearly back in his element, was almost comically pretending not to notice. The tension between the two men was palpable, which made the fact that they both ate ice-cream with such seriousness somewhat ridiculous. If their situation weren’t so dire, Jūshirō would have laughed.

“I’ve gotten you in trouble, haven’t I? Is there… something wrong with me?”

Apparently he wasn't the only one who'd noticed the strained atmosphere. Jūshirō looked down at Sōsuke's serious face. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart,” he said and wrapped an arm around the boy, pulling him close. Sōsuke resisted a bit at first, but then clutched Jūshirō’s side. “It’s the world. There’s nothing wrong with having the kind of power you have. In fact, many soldiers in the Gotei are practicing every day to try to achieve what you already have. I suppose that’s why they see you as a threat.” This was difficult to explain to a child, especially one with so little working knowledge of the world. How to describe the difference between souls reborn in the Rukongai and those within the walls of the Seireitei in a way that would make sense of the senseless? “I suspect you were just born in the wrong place. Power like yours would most likely be welcome in a noble house.”

“Welcome?” Sōsuke repeated. “I don’t understand. Everyone says I’m a dangerous monster. Why would anyone want to be like me?”

Jūshirō kissed the top of Sōsuke’s head before leaning down to look the boy in the eye. “You are not the monster here. Anyone who would judge a person ‘a danger to society’ at birth is the monster.”

“This looks like a serious discussion,” Shunsui said with a little laugh. “I hate to break it up, but we have to go.”

#

As Shunsui suspected, the Old Man looked annoyed at having his day interrupted by a squabble over something insignificant. However, he had not anticipated the way Captain Shutara hung attentively on Yama-jii’s arm or the little knowing-smile she flashed them as they entered the Head Captain’s audience chamber.

Had they been outplayed before they’d even begun?

Under the shade of his straw hat, Shunsui glanced at the boy. What would they lose if they gave up this fight? Jūshirō’s tender heart would break a little, but, in the end, what was this child besides a momentary diversion?

Jūshirō’s tears would dry. He’d forget the boy in time.

And if there was any chance that contesting this might bring attention down on Nanao... 

No, Shunsui was resolved. He would only make the barest effort. In many ways, they were better shot of this problematic child. Sōsuke was already a clever little liar, after all. Surely, with all that power, he was a hassle they didn’t need.

Tipping up his hat, Shunsui smiled. “I would say I was surprised to see you here, Captain Shutara, but you have bested us on every turn! Well played, captain. Well played, indeed.”

Her slender eyebrows raised at the compliment, but she inclined her head. “Are you admitting surrender, Lieutenant Kyōraku?”

Shunsui laughed. “Surrender would imply that we were ever at odds, Captain.”

In his seat, Old Man Yama shifted, lifting his head to stab Shunsui with a penetrating stare. “Are you saying you make no claim on the child, Shunsui?” 

“Shunsui?” came Jūshirō’s anxious whisper at his side.

Shunsui stepped forward, away from Jūshirō and the child, to approach the dias. “I paid for him. But beyond that…?” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

Shutara’s lips went thin, but she removed her arm from Yama-jii triumphantly. “So all this fuss was over money? I should have sent Shinji with a purse. How much do you want?”

Behind him, Shunsui could feel Jūshirō’s growing distress. But he said nothing, made no protest other than to comfort Sōsuke with a ‘hush.’ 

Shunsui's stomach sank. That was the one thing he'd forgotten to factor into his decision. Jūshirō still trusted him to do what was right and, no doubt, believed he had some sort of ‘plan.’

Well, then. He’d just have to consider his answer carefully because, once lost, there was no amount of money in the entirety of Soul Society that could buy back Jūshirō's trust.

Shunsui lowered himself onto the first step of the dais, his whole body weighed down by a kind of soul-crushing weariness. Rudely, he sat with his back to Yama-jii and Captain Shutara, and instead rested his elbows on his upraised knees and stared balefully at his partner and the young Sōsuke. 

He wasn’t really interested in money, of course, but for now it was a good enough pretence. Until he could identify a better way forward, anyway.

“What is a life worth, I wonder?" he pondered aloud. "I can only imagine you plan to harvest the boy’s reiatsu for your scientific purposes. Is that what we’re placing value on? Shall we calculate some amount of kan per pound of spiritual pressure?” Shunsui glanced over his shoulder. “In which case, are you sure you can afford this one, Captain?”

“Mmm, I would not have thought you so greedy, Lieutenant,” Shutara hissed. “I would be willing to pay twenty million kan.”

“That's the price of his soul?” Shunsui said in genuine surprise. “Seems so little, especially given that you have no idea if your experiments will drain him completely, do you?”

She gave a ‘harumph.’”What does that matter? Yesterday the boy was an anonymous prisoner. I don’t understand how he’s gained so much in value since you purchased him. Take the twenty million, Lieutenant. It’s far more than you paid.”

“Yes, but I don’t plan to waste him.”

“Nor do I,” Shutara declared.

“Oh, my mistake,” Shunsui said, standing up. He was able to shoot Sōsuke and Jūshirō a wink because he held the key to winning this argument now. “So, you plan to leave him with enough power to send to Academy? Or would you deny the Gotei his strength? How much is that loss worth? Can it even be measured or calculated?”

Yama-jii grumbled under his breath. He slammed his staff on the floor and it echoed with the power of Ryūjin Jakka. “This kind of talk disgusts me.”

Shunsui dipped his head contritely, the hat serving to hide his small smile. 

“No more discussing the buying and selling of children in these chambers,” Yamamoto snarled, pulling himself up to his full height. “The two of you are dishonoring the Gotei. We will leave the child where he is. If you have a strong enough claim, Captain Shutara, take it up with Central 46.”

The look Captain Shutara shot Shunsui as she swept from the chamber was murderous.

#

"I want to work towards a promotion."

Shunsui jerked, the sake in his bowl coming close to lapping over the edge and looked up. Jūshirō lurked, pale and ghost-like in the doorway, but it wasn't his appearance that had made Shunsui jump. 

"I thought we'd decided it was too risky," he said and shifted his legs so that Jūshirō could join him on the verandah cushions. The night air was cool, and the moon glinted off a sea that was almost as still as a lake.

Silently taking up the invitation, Jūshirō came over and settled down beside him. Then he held out a hand. Shunsui obliged, handing over his bowl of sake and pouring himself another. Not precisely the polite thing to do, but neither the mood nor the company tonight demanded manners.

For a long moment Jūshirō simply sat, silently contemplating his sake, then he knocked it back in one gulp and, with a very determined expression on his face, held the bowl out for a refill. 

Shunsui raised his eyebrows. He could count on the fingers of one hand the times that Jūshirō had had more than one drink. "Are you sure?" he asked, meaning the sake, though even he had to acknowledge that the layers on the question went fathoms deep.

Jūshirō met his gaze, steadily and with a bleak certainty that sent shivers through Shunsui's soul. "We could have lost them today," he said. 

And of course, it had to be about the children. Gaining a captaincy for its own sake would never even occur to Jūshirō. To protect others? That was an entirely different matter.

Shunsui sighed, knowing better than to argue. Refilling Jūshirō's bowl, and his own, he limited himself to a single query. "Mimihagi?"

Jūshirō shrugged, sipping his drink this time. "What's a few thousand years here or there. I could be killed by a hollow tomorrow."

Shunsui chuckled and raised his bowl in salute to the fallen. They were soldiers, after all, and a soldier's life could never be entirely safe. Not even one who served as Central's security commander. "True, true. Though I'd not like to meet the hollow that made it as far as you."

A wry curl of the lips met his comment. Then Jūshirō shook his head, gaze returning to his drink. "And you?"

"Me?" Shunsui took a lingering sip of sake and rolled the flavour around on his tongue. It was fruity, with a brightness that was only ever present in spring. Obviously, if Jūshirō was going for a captaincy, Shunsui was too. The more interesting question was what to do with the children while they were so engaged. Specifically young Sōsuke. "I suggest Onigawa-sensei." 

Beside him Jūshirō jerked slightly at the mention of their old academy kidō master. Shunsui smirked and continued. "I hear she could use something to fill the hours now she's retired, and her place in north thirty seven is secluded enough that any unfortunate accidents should pass unnoticed."

"If anyone could teach Sōsuke to control his reiatsu, it would be her," Jūshirō breathed. "It's perfect." He laughed quietly. "I should have known that you'd have given this even more consideration than I."

Since the first moment that blaze of reiatsu had lit up the sky. The involvement of Shutara had simply added extra impetus to his planning. 

And then there was Nanao. The sōtaichō's departing shot had scored a direct hit on Shunsui's nerves:

_"And don't think I didn't notice that you took the Ise girl as well, Shunsui. She'd better not go missing if there's ever a need for her."_

How he'd ever thought to put one over on the old man, he didn't know. 

Shunsui finished his drink and opened his eyes to find Jūshirō watching him, concern writ deep in green eyes, and already holding up the jug. Gratefully, Shunsui offered his bowl, considering his next words carefully as the colourless alcohol swirled briefly against smooth porcelain before settling into a miniature pool. 

"We can't afford to rely on Yama-jii any longer," he said finally. "It might have worked out today, but he's Central's man. If the right person asked, he'd hand the children over without question."

Jūshirō huffed quietly. "I think you always had more faith in him than I did anyway," he said, taking a sip of his drink. His gaze was now fixed on the moonlit sea. "Why do you think I never went to him when Ise-san was sentenced."

_Because you knew that you should have told me first!_

The protest burned in Shunsui's heart, fuelled by the desolate cries of the sword hidden inside him. Would it ever cease mourning its lost mistress? Shunsui was starting to doubt it. He took another, deeper drink and reached over to snag the jug. With all this talking and thinking, it was going to be another long night in the Divine Sword's company, and he was determined shorten it any way he could.

"Sensei's grown too old to change. Even when he knows an order is wrong, he won't fight it."

Shunsui grunted. "That's because he remembers when there wasn't anyone to give him orders." And that always gave Shunsui pause for thought, his own 500 or so years of existence paling to a mere blip compared to the thousands the old man had already experienced.

What had it been like in those days, before the Gotei had even existed? For all its faults, the current government at least provided some kind of structure.

"Well, we're not stuck back in the old days," Jūshirō said, a core of iron-hard determination running through his voice. "Nor are we Central's men, and if we have to bypass them, and Genryūsai-sensei, to do what needs to be done, then so be it."

In the silence that followed Jūshirō's statement, Shunsui tried not to feel scared. Sure they'd talked about changing things before, but always in the context of saving Jūshirō from Mimihagi. This sounded different. 

"I don't ever again want to see someone executed for a crime they didn't commit."

This sounded like treason.

The quiet scuff of feet outside the door made both men freeze. Instinctively, Shunsui reached out with his reiatsu to discover who had managed sneak up on them so effectively. Reiatsu, like shadows over still water, met his enquiring touch. "Sōsuke," he mouthed to his partner, who, going by the frown on his face had done his own checking.

Jūshirō rose and slid the door open. Outside was indeed an adorable tousle-headed child, rubbing his eyes like he'd just that moment risen from his bed. Shunsui didn't believe it for a moment. The boy had been eavesdropping, and for some reason wanted them to know.

"What's wrong, Sōsuke-kun?" Jūshirō was asking, crouched down beside the child and checking him over like he was going to find some injury. 

Eyes that seemed a hundred times the age of the body that bore them, rose to meet Shunsui's over Jūshirō's shoulder. "Will I ever see you again?" Sōsuke asked.

Jūshirō appeared to melt, his inspection morphing into a hug within a heartbeat. "Oh, Sōsuke-kun, no. We're not sending you to Onigawa-sensei because we don't want to see you anymore."

"Of course you're not," Sōsuke retorted, wrestling free of Jūshirō's grip. The boy looked appalled that he could ever think such a thing. "You're going to be captains, and everyone knows that they're the best of the best, so you're bound to be busy all the time."

Leaving no time for him. That explained why he'd given himself away. For all his bravado, young Aizen Sōsuke's insecurities ran deep. 

"It's true we'll be busy," Shunsui said, trying to be reassuring. "But there will be vacations."

"And days off," put in Jūshirō, tugging at the front of Sōsuke's sleeping yukata a little higher. "And you'll always be welcome here, whatever else is going on."

Some tension around Sōsuke's shoulders seemed to relax and he finally spared a glance at Jūshirō. "I'd like that," he said, almost shyly. "This place is nice."

"Then consider it your home," Jūshirō replied. "With us." He shot a look at Shunsui as if daring him to disagree. 

Shunsui nodded. It hardly bothered him either way. In a few years the entire point would be moot. "Whenever's there's time, we'll meet up here," he said, adding, as though as an afterthought, "Though, it won't be long before you're at Academy yourself and, if I remember my time there correctly, you'll have more exciting things to do than hang around with a couple of old fuddy-duddies like us."

Sōsuke perked up immediately, his attention knife-sharp as he gazed at Shunsui. "Academy? _I'll_ be able to go to Academy?"

He didn't think the boy had understood that part of the fight with Shutara. "Of course you will," Shunsui assured him. "What, you thought we'd let a talent like yours go to waste?"

"Talent." The word came out whispered, like Sōsuke couldn't believe it was attached to him. 

"You're very talented, Sōsuke-kun," Jūshirō said, finally rising to his feet. "And a few years with Onigawa-sensei will make you even better. She taught us, you know." Sōsuke's eyes flicked to the zanpakutō on their rests by the door. 

Noticing the tick, Shunsui chuckled. "Not swordsmanship. Kido. Onigawa-sensei is a master in the demon arts."

"She makes a mean hotpot too, or are you forgetting, Shunsui."

Jūshirō's smile brought with it a plethora of happy memories, of evenings around the kotetsu, cooking meat and vegetables while discussing the finer points of kido with their teacher. Shunsui smiled back. "How could I forget?"

"It sounds… nice," Sōsuke said, hesitantly, like he was trying to convince himself.

"It was, and it will be for you as well," replied Shunsui, heaving himself to his feet. "Now, was there something specific you wanted, young man?"

"Oh, erm…" Sōsuke stared up at him, before glancing back towards the bedroom. "Tsuboi wanted a drink."

"And Tsuboi couldn't come get his own?" Jūshirō tutted, shaking his head as he led Sōsuke out of the room, one arm around the boy's shoulders.

The hurried reply was a quite audible, "I didn't mind, honestly," which Shunsui could entirely believe. Just how much of their conversation had the boy overheard? And what to do about it if he had. 

The fact that he hadn't picked up the all niceties of the fight with Shutara suggested that, even if he had heard them talking, he probably wouldn't have understood the ramifications. Or at least not well enough to make anything of them. And if he had and tried to to share them? Well, it would be the word of two respected lieutenants against a child who was widely considered an aberration and a monster. Shunsui was willing to take the risk. 

But still, the eavesdropping was a habit he and Jūshirō needed to be aware of. At least until Sōsuke was of an age when he could be brought in on their plans.

Shunsui paused, pondering. Where exactly had _that_ thought come from? Not that it was a bad one, necessarily, just surprising. Sōsuke certainly had enough power to potentially be useful at some point in the future.

He shook his head, sinking back to the floor and reaching for the sake. First things first, he needed to convince her ladyship to give him bankai. If he could make himself heard over the wailing of the Divine Sword.


End file.
